Close Encounters
by NothingButTrouble
Summary: America brings Tony on a business trip to China, and Tony meets a certain someone he won't forget any time soon.


Okay, so once I posted this originally, it was the shortest story I had uploaded. And now, after going through again and editing, it's four hundred words longer and my second longest. I feel like if I edit anymore it'll just turn into a complete monster and_—_

Alright. So, this is an entry for the final round of Season One of the Hetalia Fanfiction Contest. All characters and such belong to Hidekaz Himaruya and also FUNimation. Let's do this thing.

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><p>Regardless of how fond Tony was of America, he was, by definition, a big galoot.<p>

Tony had picked up the phrase "big galoot" from him, actually. He'd used it to describe some person named Russia. Tony thought the phrase was interesting and made sure to include it in his thought processes whenever possible.

From what Tony could gather from the Internet, a "big galoot" was someone who was large and not the brightest. The definition certainly applied to America, because he was much taller than Tony and he couldn't be the brightest. He wasn't luminescent enough.

In the other sense of the word, America also made mistakes fairly often. Usually, they were small things, like including self-destruct buttons on his inventions or replacing the cinnamon with chili powder. Once in a while, a bigger error would be made and Tony would mentally sigh and just go along with it. Like this time, for instance. America had gotten it in his head that Tony would be lonely if he left him home alone for the duration of his trip to China, and since he would be staying at China's house, he wouldn't be able to really call home the way he usually did (even though Tony almost never actually spoke during those phone calls). While America's idea was all sorts of wrong— Tony worked best alone, no matter how enjoyable it was to spend time with America— there was ultimately nothing he could do about it.

And so he was toted along on America's business trip, wearing a sunhat and a wetsuit and trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. He sat in the window seat and kept his head down for the entire plane ride, shielding his face when anyone walked by.

It was a long, jumpy fourteen hours. He didn't very well want to be on the front page of the National Enquirer or anything. However, as time ticked on and increasing quantities of humans succumbed to slumber, he slowly relaxed. Once everyone else had fallen asleep, he collected approximately fifty in-flight magazines and stacked them precariously on top of America's head.

He was a scientist first and foremost, but he was also America's companion, and the big galoot had definitely rubbed off on him.

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><p>As soon as they entered China's house, Tony knew that he wanted <em>nothing<em> more than to immediately locate America's designated room and hole himself up there for the duration of their stay. After minimal staring at the back of America's head, he turned around and noticed the diminutive alien. A few more seconds garnered him a soft smile and also directions. "And if you need anything," America added quickly, "Me and China will be up on the second floor doing work type things. And if China invites you to a party, _don't go_."

Location ascertained, Tony swiveled in place and set off, ignoring America's final statement. He trotted through arching doorways, down a hallway or two, and up a staircase. He paused on the top step, leaned on the banister to calm his circulatory system. It was obvious that America had been allotted a room with a view. At the moment, Tony was not especially fond of views. Or staircases, for that matter.

After his brief period of recuperation passed, he ventured forth into yet another hallway. His eyes alighted on his desired destination— an inconspicuous mahogany door, no light shining through the cracks. What quality, he thought.

Tony was many things; an alien, a friend, a scientist. He was also a door enthusiast. They were so quaint and symbolic, not to mention easily customizable. He even owned a door collection, which was unknowingly enabled by America and his habit of accidentally breaking them down when he was tired or hungry or very, very angry.

His musings on the well-made door were interrupted by the sound of footsteps, coupled with what was obviously America's "inside voice." Tony couldn't quite make out the words, so he turned around to go see what his companion was doing. Instead of seeing America, however, he came face to face with something fascinating.

It was a sleek creature, its features soft and its smile shining. If Tony's eyes had the ability to widen, they would have.

He stood soundlessly— more soundlessly than usual— in front of the door. The object of his admiration mere seconds ago had been forgotten, replaced with a radiant, entrancing new figure. The head was so evenly complemented by the angle of the ears and _oh_, that _flower_, so perfectly placed to emphasize the color. The body was humanesque, but so very proportional and wearing _such_ flattering clothing.

Tony took it all in, drinking up the sumptuous proportions and drinking and drinking and he felt like he was _drowning_, drowing in feathers, or a mattress— like a liquid Tempur-Pedic made out of the summer sun and dreams . It felt like he had morphed into a large, alien-shaped marshmallow and the room had turned into an oven set to bake and he could, he _would_ expand like a balloon with the warmth, so warm, and then he would retreat into himself once this, this _deity_ went to go be godly somewhere else. He wanted— he _wanted—_

A floorboard creaked loudly, a hardly unusual event in China's old, old house, and Tony startled like a deer. He stole one last glance at the fabulous entity that remained motionless in front of him, and fled into America's room, shutting the high-quality door behind him sharply.

China and America stepped out from behind the corner. "Forget hotel chains," China said, eyes alight with enthusiasm. "Let's do that again!"

"Didn't I tell you they were gonna be best friends?" America asked, not gloating so much as basking in triumph.

"No way," China denied. "You didn't want to try it when I told you my plan."

"Yeah, but then I reconsidered and I totally knew you had the right idea, but _you_ just wanted us to make them meet, _I _was the one who knew they'd be awesome friends_—_"

"No way, _I_ said it first_—_"

"Dude, no, okay, it was when we were making that model of the hotel, and I was mulling it over, right, and then I snapped the red and the blue Legos together," and here America made some interlocking gesture with his hands that was wholly unfamiliar to both China and every other inhabitant of the planet, "and I _knew_ that it was some kind of, of analogy or metaphor or whatever. Like, the blue one's Tony, okay, and the red one's your Shinatty cat thing, and I knew that once they were introduced to each other, they would click, okay? And that's how it happened," America declared. China was too excited that their little introduction scheme had gone off as planned to even argue with America like he usually would.

After that, the quality of their conversation quickly deteriorated, and in their ensuing gossip session ("Did you see the way they looked at each other?" "I know! Tony's so happy, he had to get outta there so he wouldn't 'lose his cool,' you know how kids are_—_"), Shinatty-chan made his escape, very confused. All he wanted was to take a nap. And maybe talk to that alien guy again. But nap time came first.

Tony sat in the adjoining bathroom's empty bathtub, protected by two thick doors and a shower curtain, and contemplated what he would do for the remainder of his stay and just how he could get America to bring him to China the next time.


End file.
